


Shatter

by knightship



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightship/pseuds/knightship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Central City will not notice Barry Allen's death. But they would notice the Flash's, and revealing Barry's alter ego isn't something he's going to do. In order to keep the mantle going, he has to don it himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatter

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2011 on my livejournal, found here. Unequivocally the best piece I've written for Young Justice.

The spare uniform isn't anything like the one Wally has saved in a box, the scraps, really, that are scorched and crackle into ash under his fingertips. This uniform that he has pulled out of the back of Barry's closet is crisp and unused. The new uniform Barry had ordered, then. He'd prefer it if there was one with wears in the crooks of the knees and elbows, the gloves creased from how Barry clenches his hands when he runs.

He brings the uniform to his face and inhales tentatively. He can catch the barest hint of Barry's aftershave, probably rubbed off from handling it. He isn't sure if his uncle has ever even worn this suit, but for some reason, this is the only one he can find. He suspects Iris has stashed the others somewhere to weep over them.

He knows Dick is out in the living room. His friend hasn't bothered to hide his entrance. Wally is torn between going out into the living room or staying in here and doing what he's promised himself he has to do.

Central City will not notice Barry Allen's death. But they would notice the Flash's, and revealing Barry's alter ego isn't something he's going to do. In order to keep the mantle going, he has to don it himself.

Despite how he's dreamed of wearing this uniform, this is never how he wanted it. The cost is too much, and he almost wants to kill Flash, wants to destroy the hero for what he's ripped away from Wally.

He's gripping the fabric in his fists, and he rubs the creases out quickly, his nose running.

Barry was twenty-seven when he became the Flash. Wally is just seventeen. Even if he's been in the game nearly as long as Barry, he's never felt his age like now. Never felt so young, never felt so vulnerable.

He wipes at his eyes quickly before standing up and stripping out of the constricting black suit his mother had forced on him for the funeral. He'd still worn his trainers, though, and is reluctant to take them off.

Standing in front of Barry's mirror in his underwear, Wally stops and stares at himself. Wally hasn't looked at himself in a full-length mirror for a while now, and he's a little surprised to see that he's filled out a little, a solidness to his shoulders that wasn't there before.

He wonders briefly if grief inspires a physical change, if he's carrying himself differently because of it. Instead of dwelling on it, he steps into Barry's suit and tugs the spandex into place, sealing Wally West away and bringing Flash forward with a forceful twist. It takes a moment for the new identity to form. At first the eyes behind the red mask want to be green, playful, his Kid Flash persona. Then, slowly, they coalesce into something more solemn, older, and maybe less stable. Sea glass green, brittle and bright, shines in the shadows of his face.

He sees the door creak open in the mirror's reflection, and Robin's footsteps, dancer light and precise, pad across the carpet before thin arms wrap around his waist from behind.

"Wally," a voice breathes into his neck. He breathes slowly, his thoughts like flickers of bright light dimmed through leagues of water. Instead of replying with the first thing that comes to his mind ("Wally isn't here right now, can I take a message?"), he wraps his hands gently around the gloved one at his hip and unwinds it from his body.

"Robin. Don't call me that." He sees blue eyes go wide in the mirror, then disappear under dark hair. The next moment Robin is across the room, his mask in place.

"Sorry. Do you mind if I patrol with you?" He flexes his hands, looking for creases that aren't there.

"Sure." They're out the window in a moment's heartbeat, Robin on his wire and Flash down the side of the building.

The patrol is so routine that by the end of the night he's only noticed one thing- how gradually, young heroes have drifted out of the shadows, and as dawn threatens to rise and they gather on the ledge of a rooftop, he pushes the cowl back and looks to the sky, trying to catch his breath as Wally slides back into place. His friends all sit on either side of him, Miss Martian on his left and Robin on his right.

When he finally cries, he quietly says goodbye to Barry, goodbye to Young Justice, and goodbye to a piece of himself.


End file.
